Silence is Golden
by XRenaandAndersonX
Summary: Hans doesn't talk much. Neither does Canada. Italy just feels like taking a random trip to Brazil and takes Canada with him. Why? Because he's ITALY. So, when Canada and Hans meet, BAM! Silence. But silence is okay, right? Silence leads to secrets, and these two are just chock-full of secrets. But what happens when these secrets spill and they realize they're in love? AWARHAPPENS.
1. Ch 1: SILENCE

Ch. 1: SILENCE

Hans was groggy that morning as he got out of bed.  
Even for a werewolf, he wasn't very graceful when drunken with sleep.  
He looked around the room for his greatcoat.  
It lay across the back of a chair nearby.  
He crossed the room to go get it, dragging his feet, as if the very action of walking was too much for him.  
He didn't bathe. He simply washed his face and did some grooming before going out. He could bathe later.  
It was cold that morning.  
It wasn't normally cold in Brazil, but, today, it was. And, yet, despite this fact, people seemed to be buzzing around as usual, as if oblivious to the cold.  
Of course, Hans didn't really care.  
All he cared about were the groceries.  
Staring at his list, he sighed.  
Hopefully, he could get all of these before the Major came calling.  
Hans had a basically normal life, save for the fact that he and Millenium were still around, and the Major constantly wanted Hans to do things for him.  
You could say he was like the Major's lackie. He got things for him instead of the Major getting it himself.  
That may have been one of the reasons why he was getting so fat...  
The first things were mainly food items.  
He noticed the store next to him and thought, "Vhy not?"  
Hans didn't usually shop here, but why not?  
It was always good to try new things.  
And who knows? Maybe this store had a better inventory than his usual stop.  
The bell jingled when he walked in, signaling his arrival.  
The man behind the counter smiled, waving an arm across his inventory.  
"Bem-vindo à minha loja. Você vê alguma coisa que você gosta? Fique à vontade. É barato."  
All Hans noticed was the man's mustache as it moved up and down with the ryhthm of his words.  
Hans had almost completely forgotten the man had spoken. And it would be rude not to reply.  
So, he merely nodded and went down one of the aisles, having to suck in his breath just to get inside.  
He was rather large, and these aisles were rather small.  
Staring at the columns and rows, Hans looked at his list again.  
"Cereal...Milk...Cheese...Beef...Bacon...Eggs...Br ead..."  
He began to check off the list as he obtained the items he needed.  
Hans was almost half-way done when the door swung open.  
"Oh, wow, Germany, look at all this FOOD!"  
Hans suddenly screamed, covering his ears with his hands as he tried to block out the sound.  
"AAAAHHH! Zhat VOICE...So ANNOYING..."  
But the voice kept on and on, and Hans felt like he was about to collapse.  
This voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard or forks on a plate. It was just AWFUL. And Hans couldn't stand it.  
"Who on Earzh could POSSESS such a horrid voice?"  
He turned.  
A red-head with a little curl in the middle of his forehead stood at the counter, chatting away with the owner.  
Hans could tell that THIS was the voice that had made his ears bleed.  
Frightened of receiving anymore torture from the boy's God-awful voice, Hans went to the back of the store to resume his shopping, trying his absolute best not to wince at the high-pitch voice when it screamed, "Oh, cool, look, pasta!"  
"I svear, zhe Major vill PAY for zhis," he thought.  
In the back of the store, Hans had a bit of time to himself, and he used that time to browse the store's collection and to avoid the red-headed boy.  
When he was done, he had to wait in line behind this boy. It almost made him wanna' throw up.  
Of course, he didn't SHOW this. But, OH, how he wanted to give that boy a what-for.  
Didn't he see that he was annoying the other customers and causing a ruckus? He was completely baffled that the owner hadn't already shooed him out.  
But as the line wore on, so did Hans's patience as the boy just kept ON and ON.  
Hans thanked God when he heard another man yell from across the store for the boy to be quiet.  
Hans could recognize that he was German, like himself, but, once again, Hans neither spoke to, nor acknowledged, them.  
He just stood there in line, waiting for them all to leave.  
And, just when he thought he was scot-free, somebody cut in line in front of him and began chatting away with the red-headed boy.  
Hans felt like he was about to explode with anger.  
"Calm down, Hans. It's just some idiots. Don't let zhem get to you. Zhey'll leave eventually."  
Funnily enough, Hans found even the GERMAN to be annoying, to some extent.  
He only seemed to fuel the Stupid boy's fire, and he kept fanning the flames by asking him stupid, rhetorical questions.  
When Hans got to the front of the line, he almost wept with joy.  
As the man scanned his things, he tried his best to ignore the boy chattering next to him to his German friend, telling himself that it would ALL be worth it in the end.  
But, just as Hans got his things, he noticed a small man trying to tell the red-head to be quiet, but the red-head seemed to be ignoring him.  
And, to his surprise, this angered him even more.  
Not only was he loud and obnoxious, he IGNORED people who were genuinely concerned.  
Hans had had enough of this and, in a wave of anger, laid a hand on the boy's shoulder.  
He had a huge smile on his face as he asked, "Oh, hello! Do you want something?"  
Hans wouldn't be won over by his innocent smile.  
Instead, Hans's brows furrowed, and his grip on the boy only tightened.  
The boy slightly whimpered at this, but Hans ignored it.  
He nodded to the man behind him and asked, "Is zhat man your friend?"  
"Huh, who?"  
"Zhat man? Zhat man right zhere!"  
Hans could feel his blood boiling.  
"I really don't know what you're talking about. But, if you mean Ger-I mean, Ludwig, then, yeah, he's my friend!"  
Hans's eyebrow twitched, and he swore, he was about to punch this boy in the face.  
Gripping his shoulders a little tighter, he said, "Zhat boy! Zhat boy right behind you! Zhe vone telling you to be quiet!"  
The boy seemed confused, but he never stopped smiling.  
"I'm sorry. You must be confused."  
That was when another man, the German, came in.  
"Vhat's going on? Did you BREAK somezhing!?"  
"What? No! No! I didn't break anything! Nothing! Nothing!"  
"He's afraid of that man, but he's not afraid of me? I vould've really punched him in zhe face, and, yet, he takes it as a...as a JOKE..."  
Hans let go of the boy's shoulders, stepping away from him as if to observe him from a farther distance.  
The German noticed Hans and asked, "Vhat vere you doing, yelling just now?"  
Hans wasn't going to answer this man, the man who merely fanned the flames and encouraged this boy to continue his reign of stupidity.  
"Vell, answer me!"  
Hans merely frowned and said, "I'm done," before knocking the German aside to get the door.  
He ignored the angry slur of curses as he left the store.  
"I'm never shopping zhere AGAIN," he thought.  
He began to wonder if that boy really HADN'T noticed his friend or if he had simply been ignoring him all along.  
Hans sighed.  
It didn't matter. It was getting late, and it was time he got home.  
It wasn't near as cold out as when he had left, but it was still pretty cold.  
Best get home soon anyway. He was gonna' miss his favorite program.  
Hans trudged sluggishly through the street to his house, unlocking the door to get inside.  
Once inside, he removed his greatcoat and laid it across the back of the chair again, the way he had found it before.  
It was cold in the house, too, so, he pulled on a sweater and turned the heat up. But not too much. He wanted to save on electricity.  
He made himself some hot chocolate before turning the TV on his favorite channel, slumping into his chair with a groan.  
But, about two minutes into it, he heard a knock on the door and went to go get it, pressing the mute button on his remote.  
"Who could ZHAT be?"  
Hans wasn't prepared for who it was.  
It was the man from earlier. The one telling his friend to be quiet.  
"Can I help you?"  
"Yeah, um...um..."  
"He doesn't seem too good vizh vords...," Hans thought.  
"Um...uh...May...May I come in?"  
Hans was surprised by this, but he wasn't going to reject the offer and leave him out in the cold.  
"Um, sure, c-come in, come in."  
"Thanks."  
But when Hans closed the door, the boy stayed frozen in place, like a vampire waiting to be invited.  
"Vell?"  
"Um...Well, it's just..."  
"Come on, sit down."  
The boy was hesitant at first but didn't deny the other man's request as it would be rude. So, he took a seat beside him on the couch.  
"Hot cocoa?"  
"Oh, jee, thanks."  
The boy took the cup from Hans's hands, blowing at the top before taking a sip, just to make sure it wasn't too hot.  
"Sooo...Vhat vere you doing out zhere in zhe cold?"  
"Well...uh..."  
The boy gulped nervously and made sure to finish half of his cocoa before setting it aside and talking.  
"Well, ya' see...The way you stood up for me back there..."  
Hans's eyes widened.  
"It was something that I'm very grateful for...and I...uh...wanted to say, "Thank you"...if that's possible..."  
Hans didn't know what to say. He usually kept his mouth shut at times like this.  
His REAL reason for being quiet all the time?  
The Major wouldn't listen to his ideas. Schrödinger didn't listen to anybody. Dok was too PRIDEFUL to take anybody's advice...  
All in all, he just kept quiet, thinking it would be best just to keep his mouth shut.  
Not like anybody wanted to hear what he had to say anyway...  
"So, um..."  
Hans just realized that he had gone completely blank when the boy's voice penetrated his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.  
"Hey, are you okay?"  
"Uh, v-vhat, vhat?"  
The boy took another sip from his cup, finally finishing it off.  
"Well, uh...What you did for me...back there...Why'd you do it?"  
"Hm?"  
"Oh, uh, n-nevermind! F-Forget I ever said anything!"  
"Vhy'd I DO it?"  
"Hm?"  
Hans was quiet for a time as he tried to process what the boy had just said.  
Why would he NOT do it? Why would he NOT save that boy from his over-bearing friend?  
It just made no sense to him.  
"Vell, because...it just didn't seem right to me, zhe vay he vas treating you. If he vas a real friend, he vouldn't treat you zhat vay."  
The boy was speechless, his face completely blank as if the idea of kindness for the sake of kindness was foreign to him.  
It probably was. What with his over-bearing friend and all. If you could CALL him that.  
"Well, um..."  
He seemed like he was searching for the right words to say, pinching his face together in concentration.  
Hans thought his face looked funny like that, kind of like when Schrödinger was acting stupid.  
"ACTING?," he thought. "Schrödinger doesn't ACT. He IS stupid..."  
"Thank you, I guess..."  
The boy outstretched his palm to shake hands with him, but Hans held it, stroking it as he said, "It vas no trouble at all. Hey, if you have anymore problems vizh zhat so-called "FRIEND" of yours, you just let me know. I'll straighten him out for you."  
The boy blushed deeply and said, "Uh, th-thanks," pulling his hand away when Hans stroked his thumb.  
The boy found it awkward, being in this man's house.  
He mentally kicked himself.  
What was he DOING here? He didn't even KNOW this man! And, yet, here he was, in this man's house, allowing him to stroke his hands as if they were having a secret affair.  
The boy shuddered at the thought, but he wouldn't deny that the man was handsome.  
No, no...He wouldn't deny that...  
Standing to his full height, he said, "Thank you for the hot cocoa...and for saving me, that was pretty nice."  
"Of course, of course."  
Hans waved away his concern like it was nothing.  
"Just, before you go, vhat's your name? Can I get your number?"  
"Oh, my gosh, he IS hitting on me!," the boy thought with a frantic wail.  
"Uh, w-why do you need my number?"  
"Just in case zhat boy tries to IGNORE you again. I can't STAND it..."  
He handed him a sticky note.  
"Here."  
"Uh, okay..."  
While he was writing down his number, Hans asked, "So, vhat's your name?"  
"Oh, Cana-Uh, I mean, MATTHEW! Yeah, I mean, MATTHEW! Whew..."  
Hans furrowed his brows in confusion, but he didn't ask what that was about.  
The boy, this MATTHEW, had a right to his secrets just like HANS did.  
No need to press him further.  
When he was finished, he handed the paper back to Hans.  
"Danke."  
"You're welcome."  
"By zhe vay, I'm Hans. Nice to meet you, Mazhew."  
"Well, uh, I better go. If I don't hurry, I'm gonna' miss my flight."  
"Flight? You FLEW here?"  
"Well, yeah, uh...I live in CANADA."  
"Oh..."  
Hans stared at his feet.  
So, this boy was from Canada.  
Interesting...  
But why on Earth did he come all this way to Brazil? Sight-seeing? That didn't SOUND like something the boy would enjoy doing.  
No, Hans pictured him as the QUIET type who just liked to sit at home all day and chat on the internet.  
It seemed more like him...  
But his FRIEND, on the other hand...THAT seemed more like something his so-called "FRIEND" would want to do.  
And, after what he saw, he wouldn't doubt it if the other boy dragged Matthew all the way to Brazil just to take a few pictures and leave.  
It seemed the impulsive thing to do, and that boy seemed the impulsive type, never knowing when to shut up.  
It drove Hans up a wall, seeing Matthew treated like this.  
Kind of like...  
His eyes widened.  
This boy, this MATTHEW...He reminded him of HIMSELF.  
Every day, Matthew tried and tried to talk, to be noticed. But his friend was always there to wear him down, to step all over him.  
And, every day, Hans tried and tried to talk, to be noticed. But the Major, and Schro, and Dok were always there to wear him down, to step all over him.  
It all reminded him of himself, and it drove Hans up a wall.  
He almost wanted to scream, but he didn't want to scare Matthew into jumping out of his skin.  
So, he just kept quiet and didn't talk, something Hans was VERY good at doing...  
Instead, he slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes.  
Matthew stared at him with a worried eye, as if concerned that he might pass on while he was asleep.  
But Hans was not asleep, nor was he planning on passing on, opening his eyes to look at Matthew, catching the boy staring at him.  
Matthew blushed and turned away, upset that he had been caught peeking at the man while he had his eyes closed.  
Maybe HE was the one hitting on Hans, not the other way around...  
But if Hans noticed, he didn't act like it, instead, getting up and walking into the other room, pulling on his greatcoat.  
When he came back out, he was fully dressed, ready for another hour or so out on the town.  
"So, shall ve go?"  
"Go where?"  
"To take you HOME."  
Their eyes locked, and Matthew blushed.  
He wanted to turn away. He didn't want Hans to see. But it was too late. He had already seen.  
He walked over to the shorter man and knelt down, cupping his face with one hand.  
"I mean...if you don't MIND...Vould you mind if I drove you home?"  
Matthew clasped Hans's hand with his own and cried, "Yes...," a solitary tear running down the right side of his face.  
Hans frowned, scooping the boy up into his arms.  
Matthew wrapped his arms around Hans's neck and held on, snuggling up to the taller man to keep warm when Hans stepped outside in the cold air.  
He walked to the car with him and stuffed him into the backseat, buckling him in before Matthew could say anything.  
He began to drive away as fast as possible without waking Matthew, only stopping to go slow on the bumps and curves.  
"He said he flew here...He'll be vanting to go to zhe airport..."  
Hans frowned.  
Even though he had only known Matthew for a short amount of time, he felt like he had known him for an eternity.  
It was almost PAINFUL to let him go.  
But Hans shook his head.  
Matthew couldn't stay here, he belonged in CANADA. CANADA was his home, not Brazil.  
But it still stabbed at Hans's heart, and he bit his lower lip to keep from crying.  
It didn't work, and he could feel a tear slide down his left cheek.  
He didn't even MOVE to wipe it away as they pulled into the airport.  
Hans didn't live too far away from it, just a few minutes, that's all.  
And that made it even WORSE for Hans, the fact that he lived so close to the airport. That meant giving up Matthew SOONER.  
He bit his lip again.  
More tears were threatening to come, but Hans had to get Matthew.  
Sucking in his emotion, he let the tear slide again, opening the backseat and gathering Matthew into his arms.  
He stirred only a little, but he didn't wake.  
Hans petted his hair as he carried him towards the airport.  
He had no idea if Matthew had left any luggage at his house and needed to go get it, or what.  
All Hans knew was that he had gotten Matthew there on time, and it made him proud that, at least, MATTHEW would be happy.  
But that meant sadness for Hans, and he dug his face into Matthew's chest, sobbing like a little child as he tried his best to get rid of all the tears before Matthew woke up.  
He didn't want to cry with Matthew watching him.  
Placing his sleeping body on a bench nearby, Hans sat beside him, stroking his hair as he slept.  
He played a little with the curl in the middle of Matthew's forehead.  
He didn't know if the boy did that on purpose or if his hair was just unruly and refused to stay down.  
Either way, it was sad to see him go, curl or not.  
And, right when he was about to cry again, Matthew opened his eyes.  
He sat up, staring at Hans with wide puppy eyes.  
Hans smiled and hugged him.  
Matthew didn't even squeak or try to pull away.  
Instead, he held on to Hans as tightly as he could.  
Neither had known the other for very long, but it was certain that they were just alike, and they both knew that, somehow, some way, they were MEANT for each other, even if neither of them knew what that really meant.  
Hans was careful in holding him.  
He didn't want to hurt him or crush him by accident.  
He stroked his hair in an affectionate manner, and he could feel Matthew shiver under his touch.  
He wondered if he was cold but decided against it.  
He was from CANADA. SURELY, he wasn't cold in BRAZILIAN weather...  
Matthew whispered, "Did you get my stuff?"  
Hans felt his chest tighten.  
He didn't want to admit that he had been too careless to ask Matthew about it before dragging him all the way over here, but he could see no other option.  
"Nein..."  
"Oh, okay, then...I guess Ita...Feliciano will get it..."  
"Zhat must be his friend," he thought.  
Oh, dear God, he wasn't coming HERE, was he? Oh, no, oh, no. Dear God, Hans couldn't take seeing that boy again. Not HIM again...  
But Matthew had already fallen asleep, and Hans would just have to wait and see.  
When he arrived, Hans recognized him on the spot.  
It was kind of hard to FORGET.  
A red-head with a little curl in the middle of his forehead stood there with luggage in hand, waving him over.  
Hans sighed, scooping Matthew back up into his arms.  
The red-head seemed ecstatic to see his little friend, and he kept poking him in the head repeatedly, saying, "Wake up, wake up! Time to wake up, sleepy head! It's time for us to GO!"  
Hans felt the sudden urge to rip off the boy's finger and shove it down his throat, but he didn't.  
Ripping off someone else's finger wasn't the SMARTEST thing to do in public.  
He brushed the boy's hand away, trying not to seem too upset, but the boy paid him no heed and continued to yell at his friend to wake up.  
"Hey, Matthew! Hey, Matthew! WAKE UUUUP!"  
Hans jumped, and Matthew's eyes flashed open.  
He blushed when he realized he had been sleeping in Hans's arms, and he hopped down.  
Lucky for Feliciano, he had MATTHEW to protect him. Because, God knows, if he was left alone with that boy, he might as well KILL him.  
Hans had to supress a grin at the thought.  
KILL him? He would MUTILATE him...  
"Ready to go? I brought your STUFF."  
The boy smiled as he handed Matthew his bags and a big teddy bear.  
Or, wait...Was that thing MOVING?  
"Well, come on. Let's not be LATE!"  
"Oh, I'll be there in a minute!"  
"Oh, well, just hurry up, 'kay?"  
Matthew waved him away, and he turned back to face Hans.  
"So...I guess this is...GOODBYE, huh?"  
"Ja..."  
Hans didn't know what to say.  
He felt like he was DYING inside.  
He didn't want to see Matthew go. Not with that BOY, not with that so-called "FRIEND" of his.  
It tore Hans up inside, and, before he could stop himself, he had pulled Matthew into his arms and begun to cry into his shoulder.  
But Matthew didn't seem too phased by this as he took off Hans's cap to kiss the top of his head.  
When Hans felt the soft brush of Matthew's lips against his skin, he nearly fainted, and Matthew had to support him.  
The taller man just couldn't find it in him to stop crying, and Matthew continued to plant kisses on the top of his head, caressing the back of his neck with his hands.  
"Hey, hey, it's okay...It's okay...You've got my NUMBER, remember? You can call me any time you want..."  
Hans had almost forgotten, and he pulled away from Matthew, but he never let him go, just pulled away.  
He used one free hand to search his pockets while he used to other to hold Matthew close to him.  
He pulled out Matthew's number, and just the sight of it seemed to calm him down.  
"Ja...Ja, zhat's right...I DO have your number, don't I?"  
Matthew nodded.  
But Hans's tears stayed fresh, and he nuzzled Matthew's nose with his own, causing Matthew to blush at the sudden contact.  
Hans repeated the number in his head.  
Even if he had it on paper, he just wanted to make sure. Just in case he lost the paper, he wanted to be sure...  
Pulling away from Matthew once more, but not letting go, he said, "So...see you again sometime?"  
"Yeah. We'll meet again someday..."  
Hans's head bowed, and he slumped back into the bench.  
Staring up at Matthew, he said, "Is zhis really vhat you vant? To leave Brazil and go back to Canada vizh zhis...zhis "FRIEND" of yours?"  
Hans had kind of wanted to say "asshole", but he thought better of it.  
Matthew wasn't one for cursing...  
Matthew only nodded.  
"Well, YEAH...to a degree...I'M going back to Canada. HE'S going back to Northern Italy."  
"ITALY?"  
This was getting more and more complicated by the minute.  
"So, you mean to tell me, you two von't be going togezher?"  
"Well, no, why?"  
Hans could feel himself crying again, but, this time, they were tears of joy.  
"Oh, you really MEAN it, Mazhew?"  
"Y-Yeah...Don't...Don't CRY about it..."  
Matthew hugged Hans, and Hans hugged him back.  
Hans was happy. SO happy that Matthew wasn't going to be around that Italian PRICK anymore.  
He ran his fingers through Matthew's hair, taking in every scent and smell of him, making sure to fill his nose with the taste of his skin before he left.  
Hans wanted to be able to savor this for days to come, even when matthew was long gone.  
As a werewolf, Matthew's scent would stay with him a lot longer if he took in as much, now, as he possibly could.  
Matthew shivered when Hans's lips brushed his neck, but that was all.  
Other than that, Hans's touches and looks were MORE than welcome.  
Matthew was barely ever seen or talked to, let alone TOUCHED.  
But it was as if Hans was EATING him, eating his scent and his appearance, taking in every aspect of him like a dog hungry for its master to return home after a long trip away.  
And Matthew loved every minute of it. The touches, the looks, Matthew loved every MINUTE of it.  
He had never felt so acknowledged, so "LOVED" as he felt, now.  
And he had a random meeting at a grocery store in Brazil to thank for that.  
As much as he hated Italy's constant chatter sometimes, if it hadn't been for Italy's constant chatter, he would've never met HANS.  
And Matthew had to thank Italy for that.  
When Hans had taken in all of the scent he could, he let go of Matthew, placing one last kiss on the top of his head, causing Matthew to blush again at the man's copy-cat behavior.  
Hans looked in his eyes and said, "Mazhew. I vant you to remember somezhing vhen I'm gone."  
"What is it?"  
Hans stared as deeply into Matthew's eyes as he could and said, "I want you to remember zhat...zhere's nozhing WRONG vizh being silent...Zhere's nozhing WRONG vizh not being noticed. Zhese people...zhese so-called "FRIENDS" of yours...Don't be upset if zhey don't acknowledge you. Zheir acknowledgement isn't vorzh your time."  
Hans cupped Matthew's face in his hands and brought his face level to his own.  
"Someday, you vill have REAL friends who acknowledge you und CARE for you...Don't vaste your time vizh zhese people, PLEASE...I BEG of you, don't do it...Zhere's nozhing wrong vizh being silent..."  
In a sudden rush of emotion, Matthew yelled, "You don't what it feels like! How DARE you tell me what to do! Feliciano's my friend, and you sho-!"  
"How do you know?"  
Matthew's face went blank.  
"Well, I..."  
"How do you KNOW!?"  
Hans shook him by the shoulders like a rag doll, and Matthew began to cry, "I don't KNO-HO-HOOOW!"  
He pulled away from Hans and sobbed into the bench, trembling violently.  
Hans tried to quickly make up for it by hugging him again, but every attempt was a failure, and Matthew would just pull away.  
Hans's eyes began to burn.  
He grabbed the boy as hard as he could and spun him around, despite his pleas.  
"Let go of me! Let go!"  
"Listen, Mazhew, zhere ist nozhing wrong vizh being SILENT! I KNOW vhat it feels like! All my life I have been ignored und tossed aside! Vorn down und stepped on! Und you have, TOO! I can TELL! Please, Mazhew, I don't vant to HURT you! I'm trying to HELP you!"  
"Let go of me! Let go of me! All you've DONE is hurt me! Can't you see that!? Can't you see that you're hurting me!?"  
"Mazhew, please, you need to understand...Silence...Silence is GOLDEN! Vhen vords don't speak loud enough, silence DOES! Silence speaks MULTITUDES! Haff you ever noticed how, vhen a bunch of people are yelling und vone person ist silent, everybody falls quiet und STARES at zhat vone person? If zhey had ALL been yelling, somezhing like zhat never vould have happened!"  
"Just, pl-please! Please, leave me alone!"  
"Damn it, Mazhew!"  
So much for cursing...  
"I don't vant to hurt you! Silence is GOLDEN!"  
"Oh, yeah!? PROVE IT!"  
Matthew's back, suddenly, arched.  
Hans's lips were pressed tightly against his, and Hans pulled him into his lap, kissing him harder than before.  
Matthew had never been kissed before, and neither had Hans, and Hans swore to make Matthew's first kiss memorable.  
He breathed hot breath into Matthew's mouth before licking the other man's lips, sticking his tongue inside Matthew's mouth and licking the insides hungrily.  
Matthew moaned at the, sudden, pleasure and wrapped his legs even TIGHTER around Hans, blushing when he felt his crotch rub up against Hans's pants.  
He felt a bump there, and Matthew gasped in ecstasy, suddenly wanting Hans to take him right here and right now.  
Of course, Hans was too busy elsewhere, licking the insides of Matthew's mouth while his hands busied themselves unbuttoning Matthew's collar.  
He slowly went downward, first, his chin, then, his neck, and, then, his collar bone.  
Hans licked them all, sucking on Matthew's shoulder gently, almost moaning when he felt Matthew harden.  
Even through his pants, he could tell. Matthew was getting hard.  
And it wasn't just MATTHEW...  
Hans almost wanted to take him, too, but Hans knew that sex was ALSO not the smartest thing to do in public, so, instead, he just rubbed Matthew's crotch with his hands, getting a seductive moan from the boy sitting on top of him.  
Hans could feel his instincts taking over, and he let out a low growl, biting into Matthew's shoulder.  
Matthew gasped with shock.  
Tears began to pool from Matthew's eyes, and Hans was shocked by his cruel behavior, licking and kissing Matthew's red spot gently.  
He had bit into him, alright, but not TOO bad. There was only a tiny trickle of blood there.  
But it didn't matter to Hans. One trickle was still too much.  
He spent the rest of his time kissing Matthew's shoulder and rubbing his crotch up against his own, hoping, just BEGGING that Matthew would forgive him and he could kiss the pain away.  
But, just a minute later, Matthew grabbed Hans by the hair and pulled him into a seductive kiss, dragging him down into the bench with him.  
Hans sat on top of him, dominant, as he took in Matthew's body with hungry eyes.  
They met in another passionate kiss, and Matthew grabbed Hans's hair, pulling him deeper and deeper into the kiss with every passing moment.  
But Hans remembered to stay gentle, and, once again, he breathed hot breath into Matthew's mouth, licking the insides hungrily as Matthew returned it, their tongues intertwining around each other like coiled snakes.  
And Matthew, and Hans, and BOTH of them...They enjoyed every MINUTE of it.  
Hans nibbled gently on Matthew's ear, and Matthew hiked his legs up into the air.  
Hans was shocked, but he kept going and sucked on Matthew's chin.  
He whispered seductively in Matthew's ear, "Is zhis zhe first time you've ever been touched?," locking eyes with the man in front of him.  
Matthew only nodded, and Hans said, "Zhe first time you've ever been...KISSED?," and he went in for a kiss, only pulling away to see if Matthew nodded.  
He did.  
Hans nodded, too, and he went in for a deeper kiss, twisting his tongue around Matthew's, his pants growing tighter when he heard Matthew moan in his ear.  
Oh, those moans, those MOANS...  
If those things weren't enough to get him there, the kissing WAS.  
Matthew's button-up shirt was WIDE open, and his chest was bare for all to see.  
Hans wondered about going any further.  
He had to remember, he was at an AIRPORT.  
He couldn't just have cold, dry SEX with Matthew right here and now, with everybody watching.  
Not only was it CREEPY, but Hans was pretty sure it was also ILLEGAL.  
Then again, he didn't know.  
The laws in Brazil were pretty lenient, sometimes...  
But Hans had a pretty good feeling that Germany and Brazil had similar laws about having sex in airports.  
So, in the end, Hans decided against it, and he gave Matthew's chest a few more pecks before re-buttoning his shirt.  
"No, no, keep going...Keep going..."  
Matthew's voice was full of longing, and he swung his hips around in a circular motion, and, for the first time in a long time, Hans blushed.  
He turned away, knowing that, if he looked any longer, his instincts would get the better of him, and he would fuck Matthew until he screamed and begged for mercy.  
And Hans didn't want to hear Matthew scream like that. Not in pain. Not because Hans was so rough that he made him bleed, gave him pain.  
He kissed Matthew gently, but Matthew just wouldn't give up, trying to slip his tongue inside Hans's mouth, hoping to kickstart Hans up again.  
But Hans would have nothing of it.  
He pried Matthew's arms off of him and ended the kiss, locking eyes with him.  
"NO, Mazhew."  
But he didn't listen and kissed him again.  
"No, Mazhew. Damn it..."  
He put Matthew's arms behind his head and restrained him, but Hans didn't flip him around, and Matthew stole another kiss from Hans's lips.  
Hans couldn't take it anymore and said, "Oh, damn it...DAMN it..."  
He went it for the deepest kiss he could, and Matthew's back arched to fit the curves of Hans's body, and Hans cursed again.  
It was too much. The passion, Matthew's crotch on his...It was all too much for one man to take.  
He didn't care about cursing anymore, or ANYTHING, for that matter.  
Not the Major, not Schro, not Dok, only Matthew.  
And, for the first time in a long time, Hans felt completely and utterly free as he kissed away at Matthew's open lips, giving his mouth a good last once-over with his tongue, causing Matthew to shiver and moan.  
He didn't feel like a Nazi, or a captain, or even a WEREWOLF.  
He just felt like the man locked in an eternal kiss with Matthew.  
To him, nothing else mattered anymore.  
Not the Major, not Schro, not Dok, not the whole of Millenium mattered to him anymore, just Matthew.  
Just Matthew...  
The kiss finally ended, and Matthew was calmer than before, allowing Hans to slip his glasses back on.  
Hans didn't even know he had knocked them off.  
Then again, they HAD gotten pretty crazy.  
Who knows WHAT else Hans would have done to Matthew's body if they hadn't been at the airport, but at Hans's apartment?  
Hans felt his pants tighten at the fantasy.  
His naked body sweating all over Matthew's...  
It was too much, and he leaned away from Matthew completely, staring out into space as he tried to clear his head of the recent kiss.  
He certainly had Matthew's SCENT alright.  
After all THAT, Hans was pretty sure he'd NEVER be able to get the scent out of his nose...  
And, then, as Hans closed his eyes, he felt Matthew holding his hands, and he remembered something from this morning.  
Something about, "It was always good to try new things".  
And, staring back at Matthew, he gave him one last peck on the lips and thought, "Yes, it is. It IS alvays good to try new zhings," and he leaned in for a deeper kiss.  
But, surprisingly, Matthew said, "Stop," and turned his face away so Hans couldn't kiss him.  
Hans felt like he had been rejected, and it hurt.  
But, after all the kissing they had just done, surely, Hans could let just ONE slide.  
So, he grabbed Matthew's bags and handed them to him.  
"Here. Ve've probably already kissed for...AT LEAST, 15 minutes, now. Boy, I never zhought somevone could KISS zhat long..."  
"Time flies when you're having fun. Ah, ha, ha..."  
"Mazhew..."  
They kissed.  
Smiling, Matthew said, "Well, you were right...Silence IS golden..."  
"Was?"  
"That kiss...We barely talked, and, yet...That SILENCE...It was the best thing I've ever experienced...I hope you can teach me about silence AGAIN, someday..."  
"Uh, Mazhew!"  
Matthew giggled at the blush on the taller man's face and kissed him again, dropping his luggage to hug up to him.  
"I'm...really going to miss you, you know?"  
"I know...I know..."  
Hans stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head, blushing madly as he remembered that that was partially how it got started.  
Just a kiss on the head, that's all. And, then, they were kissing mouths, chins, necks, collar bones...  
Hans didn't know what to say, and it looked like MATTHEW didn't know, either.  
But Matthew was right.  
He still had his number.  
He could visit him anytime he wanted.  
"Ja," he thought. "I can alvays teach him about silence again...SOMEDAY..."  
Hans and Matthew shared one more kiss before parting, and Matthew waved to him as he boarded the plane.  
Hans waved back, and a sudden terror gripped his stomach.  
Matthew would soon be back in the arms of that Italian "asshole", Feliciano, or whatever the Hell his name was, and Hans almost wanted to follow Matthew onto the plane, kill Feliciano, and take Matthew back with him by force.  
Of course, Hans knew he couldn't do that, and he felt tears roll down his face as he watched the plane soar into the sky and take off.  
His heartbeat was like the wings of a hummingbird, beating ninety times a second, and he couldn't take the pain anymore, running away from the airport as fast as he could.  
Hans's heart filled with a thousand waves of different emotions as he remembered Matthew, and Feliciano, and that strange German who had been with him.  
His hatred for Feliciano, his love for Matthew, his confusion and anger for the German.  
It was all too much, too much for one man to take, and he hurried on home as fast as he could, locking the door behind him.  
He fell on top of his bed and cried.  
He cried for about 20 minutes before falling to sleep.  
His dreams were haunted with the same nightmares, and as he slept, he held the sticky note with Matthew's number on it close to his side, not once letting it go or forgetting about it.  
He would never let Matthew go, and he would CERTAINLY never forget about him.

* * *

Okay, okay, ITALY FANS, stop cussing me out in your head. Stinkers. ANYWAY, took a while, I know, but I'm so proud of my little baby. There will be three chapters, I think. Maiden Rose was a HUGE inspiration for the kiss scene, so, props to that yaoi. It was awesome. You should go watch it. XD Didn't want to make it a yaoi at first. Was also going to be a one-shot. Screwed both those ideas and went with multi-chapter yaoi. AWWW YEEAAHHH! XD So, no hateful comments. Will be removed if I see any. Got that, Italy fans? :I Thought so. Next chapter may take FOREVER, so, just calm your tits, people. I'm only human. :P ONWARD AND FORTHWITH! XD


	2. Ch 2: IS

Ch. 2: IS

Hans was groggy that morning as he got out of bed, just like the day before.  
He couldn't remember how long he had been crying before he had fallen asleep.  
Staring at his pillow, he sighed to see that, even though it had probably been HOURS since he had cried, it was drenched with tears.  
All it was was a painful reminder of Matthew's leaving, and he tossed it in the washer, wanting to clean it and ALSO not wanting to LOOK at it anymore.  
All it did was HURT him.  
Although he swore not to let go of Matthew or ever forget him, Hans tried to move PAST him in order to go about his day.  
But it failed, and Hans found himself sitting on the couch in his underwear with his head in his hands.  
He cursed himself and kicked the table, cringing at the pain it caused.  
The pain only drove him further, and, in a sudden wave of anger, he could no longer hold it in.  
The hatred for that boy. He HATED him for taking Matthew away from him.  
And he could no longer hold it in.  
Screaming in anger, he grabbed the table by the legs and smashed it against the wall, taking a seat on the couch once more to sob violently into his hands.  
Sure, he was GLAD that Matthew was going back to Canada so he wouldn't have to be around that Italian PRICK anymore, but it still depressed him.  
Depressed him to the point that he found himself crying randomly throughout the day, whether it was opening a jar of peanut butter or eating a sandwich.  
Just random, depressed acts of sadness that snuck up on him when he wasn't even looking.  
Hans was ashamed and almost wished he HAD killed that Feliciano and stolen Matthew when he had the chance.  
But, then again, Matthew would never forgive him if he did, and, then, it wouldn't be worth it.  
He dug his face into hands and cried some more, but his crying was cut short when the phone rang.  
He jumped up, hoping it was Matthew calling him.  
But, then, with a sudden droop in spirit, he remembered that Matthew had given him HIS number, not the other way around.  
Hans didn't want to talk to anybody right now, but he didn't have much a choice.  
He held the phone up to his ear and whispered, "Hallo?"  
"Come outside. I've been vaiting for you. Vhy didn't you come vhen I called earlier?"  
"Schrödinger?"  
Hans DEFINITELY wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody, let alone SCHRODINGER.  
If ANYBODY, that Italian boy was the only one WORSE than Schrödinger, and that wasn't much worse.  
Schro was pretty bad...  
But, then, Hans sniffed the air and was glad to know that he still had Matthew's scent with him.  
At least, somehow, Matthew's scent would make the whole ordeal a little easier.  
He sighed, saying, "Vhere are you?"  
"Right outside your vindow."  
"VINDOW?"  
Hans pushed the curtains aside, and, sure enough, there was Schrödinger, standing in the middle of his front lawn.  
Hans frowned.  
"So?"  
He could see Schro's lips twitch into a smile.  
"Zhe Major vould like to have a VORD vizh you."

* * *

Matthew, or "CANADA", sat quietly at the end of the table as he waited for the world meeting to end.  
He didn't care about going to them anymore.  
While the others were talking about how to solve things like world hunger and the problems in the middle east, Matthew spent most of his time staring out the window, just thinking about Hans.  
It had only been one or two days now, and Matthew STILL couldn't get the German out of his mind.  
Sometimes, he wondered, if he stared out the window HARD enough, he might see Hans trudging up the lawn towards the building.  
But, of course, Hans was in Brazil, and the odds of that happening were second to none.  
So, Matthew just listened to the other nations argue, his head in hands as he waited patiently for it all to be over.  
Both Russia and Japan were calm, as usual.  
Germany was yelling at Italy, and Italy wasn't paying attention, as usual.  
America was being an egotistical know-it-all, France was being a prissing, primping, prancing, pretty-boy, England was just sipping tea, trying to avoid everybody else's stares, and China?  
Well...He was just being China.  
AS USUAL.  
Everybody was just "AS USUAL", save for Matthew.  
Matthew was being ODD, staring out the window and sighing, moving around in his seat, twitching and fidgeting as he waited for it all to be over.  
He sighed with relief when, EVENTUALLY, Germany called for the meeting to come to an end.  
Matthew waited for everybody to leave before he left the room himself, avoiding Russia's creepy stare with a grimace.  
He held Kumajiro tightly, not looking where he was going, and bumped into somebody on his way.  
It was Italy.  
"Oh, HI, Matthew!"  
Matthew cringed at the loud voice.  
Hans was right. Italy WAS annoying. And not in a GOOD way, either.  
Wait...How could someone be "GOOD" annoying? Was that even POSSIBLE?  
Apparently not...  
"Oh, hi, Italy..."  
But Matthew only wanted to slink away and avoid everybody until he got home where he could sulk in peace.  
But Italy wasn't going to let Matthew go that easily and tugged him by the arm, saying, "Come on, Matthew, let's go somewhere! I know of this great Italian restaurant down the road! You're gonna' LOVE it!"  
"Uh, no-no thanks, Italy. I-I kinda' just wanna' go HOME right now."  
"Wha? But you HAVE to come with me!"  
Matthew was beginning to lose his patience.  
He had never been angry with Italy before, at least, not REALLY, but Italy just wouldn't let it go.  
And that was saying a LOT, seeing as how Matthew rarely ever got mad.  
But, here he was, getting all worked up over Italy's small remark about going to the restaurant, and Matthew hated it.  
He hated the fact that Italy just wouldn't leave him alone to go sulk in peace.  
Couldn't Italy see that? Couldn't he just SEE that Matthew needed a little alone time right now to sort things out?  
Apparently not...  
"Hey, I know. If I get you an extra special thing of maple syrup, would you go THEN?"  
"Italy, stop trying to bribe me with gifts. It's not working."  
"OR I can get you some PANCAKES! To GO with the maple syrup!"  
"Italy, I really just want t-."  
"Come on, how about it, eh? AHAHA!"  
"Italy, seriously, I just want to be left alone right n-."  
"Oh, I get it! You don't LIKE Italian food! Oh, okay. How about Chinese? Do you want Chine-?"  
"Italy, will you just shut the fuck UP already, you stupid Italian ASSHOLE!?"  
Italy stopped talking and stared at Matthew with his mouth wide open, tears forming in his eyes as he said, "W...Why would SAY such an awful thing, Matthew? I...I thought we were FRIENDS..."  
"Damn it...Why the Hell would I...EVER want to be friends with someone who only sees HIMSELF? Someone as inconsiderate as YOU?," the Canadian hissed.  
But, at the sight of Italy's tears, Matthew's anger dissolved like sugar in water.  
"Uh, I-Italy, y-you know I was just kidding right?"  
Matthew tried to make up for it by hugging him, but Italy flinched away from his touch, as if Matthew had some horribly contagious disease.  
It was the first time Matthew had ever cussed like that, and he could tell that America had finally gotten to him.  
"You...You know it was just a JOKE, right?"  
"Some pretty terrible joke, if you ask me...It wasn't funny at all..."  
Italy covered his mouth and began to wipe his tears away with the back of his sleeve.  
"Uh, no, Italy, wait!"  
But Italy had already begun to run off down the hall, crying and wailing as he went.  
Matthew wanted to run after him to help dry his tears, but he felt a hand on his shoulder and paused.  
He really DID feel bad for yelling at Italy like that, and he wanted to make up for it, but the hand on his shoulder refused him that privilege, instead, spinning him around to face its owner.  
It was Germany. And a very ANGRY Germany at that.  
Matthew had never SEEN him so angry, and he could tell why.  
He had just yelled at Italy. Italy was Germany's "BFF". It would only make sense that he would be pissed off.  
"Vhy did you do zhat?"  
"Uh, do WHAT?"  
Germany gripped Matthew's shoulder tighter than before, and he knew that Germany wansn't in the mood to play games.  
"Don't jerk me around, Canada. Now, tell me vhy you yelled at Italy."  
"Because he DESERVED it!"  
Matthew gasped sharply when he felt Germany's nails dig into him. Even through his jacket, he could feel it, that sharp, stinging pain of Germany's fingernails.  
Did he never clip them, or WHAT?  
"Don't FUCK vizh me, Canada! Now, TELL me, vhy did you yell at Italy!?"  
"Because he really IS an asshole!"  
Matthew gasped.  
Germany had just slapped him in the face.  
He touched his right cheek and made a whimpering noise.  
But Germany didn't seem to notice and continued to shake him, saying, "Talk to me, DAMN you! I'm FED up vizh your shit today! I have a lot of vork vhen I get home, und I don't need you messing zhat up for me! Now, you und I usually get along very vell, so, don't make me start hating you NOW!"  
But Matthew couldn't listen to him as he cried, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as he pushed Germany away from him, falling to his knees with his head in his hands.  
Germany sighed, more from irritation than anything else, and said, "Vhat? Vhat zhe Hell is WRONG vizh you today? First, you yell at Italy, und, zhen-."  
Germany's eyes widened.  
"It vas Brazil, vasn't it? It vas somezhing zhat happened in BRAZIL, vasn't it? Italy TOLD me you had been acting strange ever since..."  
Matthew wiped his eyes and looked up at the man who hurt him.  
He felt like returning the favor, a feeling Matthew didn't often get.  
He was usually a very QUIET nation, a very CALM nation.  
But, today, he felt all out of his element, and he had Germany to THANK for that.  
Now that he thought about it, Germany WAS pretty cute...  
He kind of reminded Matthew of Hans...in a WAY...in just a small, minute WAY...  
"It's because he's GERMAN," he thought, "like Hans..."  
Standing to his full height, he wiped his eyes again, his face level with his Germany's.  
Their eyes locked, and Germany furrowed his brows.  
"Vell? Aren't you going to apologize? Or, at least, tell me vhy you're so upset?"  
"Why should I tell YOU? You HIT me..."  
More tears spilled down Matthew's face, and he couldn't control them, but he didn't WANT to.  
He WANTED Germany to see all the pain he was in.  
Then, maybe THEN, Germany would understand...  
But, of course, he didn't, and, losing his patience, he said, "TELL me, damn it! Or do I have to pry an answer from you MYSELF!?"  
"Yes," Matthew thought, "he's JUST like Hans...a GERMAN..."  
Matthew blushed and said, "Germany..."  
The taller man blinked in confusion at the blush on Matthew's face and said, "V-Vhy zhe Hell are you blushing? Z-Zhis isn't some kind of JOKE, Canada!"  
And, then, it happened.  
Matthew didn't know if he fell or if he WANTED to do it, but, either way, it happened.  
He kissed Germany.  
In a moment of weakness, he had kissed Germany, hoping that, at least, he could be close to someone who was LIKE Hans, even if he could not be close to Hans, himself.  
Germany's whole body tensed, and he clamped his mouth shut, blushing madly when he felt Matthew's tongue slide across his lips.  
He wasn't going to allow that boy entry.  
In no way was he EVER going to console to kissing Canada, or anybody ELSE for that matter.  
Matthew didn't like being shut off from the rest of Germany's mouth, so, he slammed him into the wall, and the pain made Germany gasp.  
And THERE was Matthew's entrance.  
He used the gasp to slip his tongue inside, and Germany made a choking sound, grabbing Matthew by the shoulders and trying to push him off.  
But Matthew was a lot stronger than he thought and held his ground against the other nation, causing Germany to bite his tongue in response.  
Matthew cringed when Germany's teeth stabbed into him, clearly not amused with the fact that Matthew had tried to pull a FAST one on him.  
But Matthew wouldn't give up.  
He continued to kiss Germany, running his fingers through the other man's hair and rubbing his hand up and down the length of his leg.  
Germany moaned, something he didn't want to do, but DAMN it, Matthew was good at this.  
"TOO good," Germany thought.  
Matthew wasn't the type to go making out with random strangers, so, APPARENTLY, he had been practicing recently, but with WHO?  
And, then, Germany realized why he had been acting so strangely.  
It was Brazil. Something had happened in Brazil to make Matthew act this way. A lover, perhaps. He had met a lover, and, SOMEHOW, Germany reminded him of this man.  
This man had clearly taught Matthew how to kiss, and, CLEARLY, he had taught him well because Germany's pants grew tight.  
Germany blushed at the thought that someone like CANADA, another MAN, could turn him on.  
"And so EASILY," he thought again.  
And, then, Germany couldn't fight it anymore, and he unclenched his teeth, gasping and blushing as he felt Matthew's tongue enter inside his mouth, spilling sweet saliva all over his taste buds.  
Germany threw his head back and grabbed Matthew by the shoulders, pulling their crotches together as hard as he could.  
He wanted to FEEL Matthew, FEEL him getting hard as they kissed.  
Matthew suddenly shivered and pulled away, ending the kiss, and a sad look graced Germany's features as he realized it had all just ended before it had even begun.  
Matthew covered his mouth with his hands, blushing, tears in his eyes as he said, "I-I-I'm sorry. I'm REALLY sorry," before running away as fast as he could.  
Germany was shocked beyond all reason, but he tried to forget that when he yelled, "No, Canada, VAIT! Vait ein second! Let's talk zhis out, ja!?"  
But he was already gone, and Germany stared at the ground in shame.  
Why was HE ashamed?  
Canada was the one who STARTED this whole mess.  
But Germany couldn't deny it.  
He had been turned on, and he liked every minute of it.  
It DISGUSTED him, in a way, that he was so easily won over, that he was so WEAK, that he couldn't fight his own instincts.  
But Matthew's tongue had just been too much for Germany, and giving in felt like a release, a HEAVENLY release.  
He slumped against the wall for support, still shocked that he had just kissed Canada, another MAN, one of his fellow nations.  
He had slapped him, and, in return, Canada had KISSED him.  
It made no sense to Germany, but he felt he should be grateful Canada KISSED him instead of PUNCHED him.  
THAT would've been nice to see...  
And, as EASILY as Canada had pinned him to the wall, it probably would have HURT, too.  
"Who could've guessed...zhat Canada vould be so STRONG...or...so good at KISSING?..."  
Germany blushed, swallowing hard.  
He could still taste Matthew's spit in his mouth, and he licked the insides of his teeth, hoping to get rid of it by day's end.  
Or maybe...just MAYBE...it wasn't that he wanted to get RID of the taste...but that he wanted to SAVOR it...  
And the mere thought of savoring Canada's essence scared him, and he shuddered.  
Did he really enjoy it that much?  
But, he could tell that, even if the TASTE went away, his memory of the kiss WOULDN'T.  
"DAMN IT," he said, placing his head in his hands.  
"Vhat am I supposed to do NOW?"

* * *

"Hallo, captain, take a seat."  
"I'm only coming here to TALK to you. I brought your groceries earlier, so, vhat is it you VANT from me?"  
"Ve'll be starting our VAR soon. I hope you're prepared."  
Hans's eyes widened.  
"Was?"  
"Ja. Zhe Dandy Man has already been gotten rid of, und it seems like Rip vill be NEXT on zhe menu."  
The Major stared warily at his lackie and said, "Vell, GO on, take a seat," waving his arm across a chair nearby.  
Hans snorted in irritation at the Major's laziness, but he sat anyway.  
"So, as you probably guessed by now, ve'll be LEAVING for ENGLAND soon. So, I suggest you say any "GOODBYES" you need to before never seeing zhem again. After all..."  
He fidgeted in his seat, turning to face Hans.  
"...it vould be a SHAME if MAZHEW never got zhe chance to say "GOODBYE"..."  
Hans suddenly sprung out of his seat, causing his chair to fly across the room.  
His eyes twitched uncontrollably as he said, "H...How do you KNOW about zhat?"  
The Major slumped back in his chair, smirking as he said, "I know EVERYZHING about you und your little RENDEZVOUS vizh zhe Canadian...Don't zhink I don't know..."  
Hans tried to stay angry, but he couldn't.  
A blush formed on his face.  
This was the second time Matthew had made him blush, and Hans found it a little more than bothersome.  
If the Major already knew, then, there was no use in being angry.  
If it couldn't be helped, it couldn't be helped.  
Hans picked up his chair, set it back down, and took a seat.  
He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing in frustration at the Major's spying on him.  
What ELSE did he know about?  
That he had cried for 20 minutes after?  
"I'll KILL him if saw zhat," he thought, digging his nails into the chair's arms.  
"But...it is also a shame zhat...you'll never get to know how I REALLY feel about you..."  
Hans stared, sideways, at the Major.  
"Was?"  
"You see...I've liked you for a LONG time, Hans...So long, I don't even remember vhen I started liking you...I guess I've ALVAYS liked you..."  
Hans's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as the Major leaned over in his chair, extended his neck, and kissed Hans on the mouth.  
It was quick, and there was no chance to savor it as the Major pulled back, slumping in his chair again.  
"Vell...I guess I should go und help Doc vizh vhatever HE'S doing...You should probably call Mazhew NOW. You may never get a chance again. You never know...You could DIE..."  
Hans's back stiffened as he sat up straight in his chair.  
His shoulders tensed, and he popped his neck, suddenly VERY uncomfortable with the position he was in.  
DIE? Did the Major just say "DIE"?  
"Zhat's right," Hans thought. "Zhis may be zhe only chance I get. But...Mazhew just got back to his home country. Should I really call him again?"  
The Major left, his head in his hands.  
"Damn zhese tears," he said, wiping away a stray one before it could get away.  
As Hans watched the Major slink off into the darkness, he said to himself, "Yes. I SHOULD."  
He dug around in his greatcoat for the sticky note and his cell phone.  
He found both and used the cell phone to call Matthew.

* * *

"Oh, HEY, Canada! How ya' doin'? How come you so late gettin' ho-?"  
"I don't wanna' talk right now, so, just leave me alone, okay?"  
"Uh...Well, okay."  
Matthew shut his door behind him, plopping himself face-down on the bed.  
Kumajiro pulled at his hair lightly.  
"Not NOW, Kumajiro, I'm not in the mood..."  
And, then, his pants' leg vibrated.  
He shot up, digging through his pocket to find it.  
"Hello?"  
"Mazhew?"  
The man sprung out of his depressed stupor, a smile on his face as he said, "Hans!? Is that you!?"  
"Vell, yes, but I have somezhing to tell you-."  
"Oh, wow, it's you! It's really YOU! I'm so glad it's YOU, Hans! You don't know how HAPPY I am to hear your voice!"  
But Matthew could hear him sigh on the other line, and he asked, "What's wrong? Did I say something I wasn't supposed to?"  
"No, no, it vasn't you. It's somezhing else..."  
"What? What is it?"  
Matthew leaned on the edge of his bed in anticipation, the little bear staring at him rather curiously, confused by this sudden change in his master's behavior.  
It poked Canada's side, but Matthew merely shooed him away, saying, "Not NOW, Kumajiro. Leave me alone so I can talk to Hans."  
But, of course, the bear didn't understand. Because he was a BEAR. And, so, he continued to poke his master's side, much to Matthew's annoyance.  
Matthew sighed and tried to ignore him, instead, talking to Hans to pass the time.  
"So, uh, how ya' been since I last saw you?"  
"Oh, ya' know...sitting at home...drinking hot cocoa...kind of like vhen you left..."  
"GOD, I haff no life," he thought somberly.  
"Oh, yeah, well, um..."  
Matthew felt a blush creep across his face, and he scooped the little bear up into his arms.  
"When do you...um...Why did you call?"  
"Vell, um...I know zhis is asking a lot, but..."  
"But what? What is it? You can tell ME..."  
"Vell...ah..."  
Matthew could hear him sigh again.  
"I vant you to come to ENGLAND vizh me."  
"W-E-England? But...I can't come back NOW! I just got back HOME!"  
"No...No, I NEED you to come back. It means a whole LOT to me, Mazhew, und I vould appreciate you coming over."  
Matthew felt his face get hotter, and he said, "N-Need me? You NEED me?"  
"Vell, ja, um..."  
Matthew could just PICTURE Hans's blush on the other line.  
He didn't even need to think about his next words.  
The incident with Germany was enough to prove it.  
He MISSED Hans. He NEEDED Hans.  
And, it would seem that, Hans felt the exact same way.  
They both needed each other, and, after today, Matthew knew it.  
He couldn't stand it any longer.  
He just HAD to see Hans again, whether or not he was far away in England.  
Leaning on the edge of the bed again, he said, "Sure thing..."

* * *

As England sipped his morning tea, he casually flipped through the pages of today's magazine, sighing comfortably as he leaned back in his chair.  
"Aaahhh...This is the LIFE alright...Too bad that actress got her HEAD cut off...Hm?"  
There was a knock at the door, and England groaned, not wanting to get up when he was already so comfortable.  
"Hey, America, can you get the door, please?"  
No answer.  
England sighed.  
"Must be in the shower...Oh, well...Best get it, I suppose..."  
He got up and stretched, yawning before taking another sip of tea as he crossed the room to the door.  
"Alright, alright, calm your knickers, Jack..."  
When he opened it, all calmness of England's normal routine faded away, replaced with shock as he yelled, "G-G-Germany!? What are YOU doing here!?," accidentally spilling tea all over the front of his blue bathrobe.  
He sighed, upset that he had gotten tea all over his favorite bathrobe and that he would never get his calmness back now that GERMANY was here.  
"Great way to ruin my whole DAY," he thought soberly.  
"Vhere is Canada?," Germany said.  
"Huh? Where's Canada?"  
England scratched his head.  
"Well, how should I know? I'm not the boy's caretaker."  
Going back inside, he returned to his seat, saying, "You CAN come IN, ya' know..."  
Germany nodded.  
"Zhank you."  
He closed the door behind him and turned to face England.  
"So...Vhere IS he?"  
Why on Earth was he so persistent?  
Come to think of it, why would Germany even CARE where Canada was?  
England found it to be a tad irritating, but he didn't let it get to him, nonetheless.  
It was too early in the morning for that, and Germany wasn't the type to screw around for no reason.  
So, sighing in annoyance, England groaned, "Didn't we already establish this? I. Don't. Know. But America might."  
Cupping his mouth with his hands, he yelled, "Hey, America!"  
There was a rather quiet, "What?," coming from somewhere down the hall.  
"Must be in the shower...," he said again.  
"Look, tell me! Where is Canada!?"  
There was silence for a long time before a door slammed shut, and America came out with his hair soaking wet.  
There was a towel around his waist, and this merely proved England's later assumptions.  
While using another towel to dry his hair, he said, "I don' know. He said somethin' about ENGLAND when he left this mornin'...Was headin' towards the airport..."  
"England? The AIRPORT?"  
England and Germany exchanged glances.  
"Well, when did THIS happen?"  
"Like I said, just this mornin'. You might be able to catch him if you hurry. Said somethin' about "meeting" someone. I don't know..."  
As America walked off into the living room, England and Germany exchanged worried glances again.  
What did this MEAN?  
Why on Earth would Canada be going to England when he just got BACK?  
It didn't make any sense...

* * *

Hans laid his glass on the counter top beside him and rubbed his eyes.  
It had a been a few hours after his meeting with Major, and he taken the liberty of spending the REST of that time drinking his life away.  
It wasn't usually something Hans did.  
He was AGAINST drinking, for the MOST part.  
But his state of depression told him it was for the best, and, anyway, he knew it would probably be his last drink, so, why not make it memorable?  
He was a little over the fact that he would probably die in the Major's POINTLESS war instead of getting to spend the rest of his life with MATTHEW.  
THAT was what Hans wanted. THAT was what Hans needed.  
But, in order to keep his honor, he couldn't DO that.  
He made a promise to Major a long time ago that he wouldn't do that, and, so, here he was, alone in his room with nothing but a white wife-beater, his cap, blue, fuzzy house-shoes, and usual green pants on that he always wore underneath his greatcoat.  
And, as a matter of fact, said greatcoat was lying across the back of his chair again, safe and sound like always.  
He imagined that was where it would ALWAYS stay, had he not been planning on DYING in it today.  
Just the thought of that depressed him, and he turned away from the sight of it, picking up his glass and taking another sip.  
Hopefully, Matthew would be here soon and they could talk things out a bit.  
It was the LEAST Hans could do to comfort him, seeing as how they were probably never going to see each other again anyway.  
Probably. There was always that "probably", but Hans had a pretty good idea that that "probably" was a "definitely", and he "definitely" wasn't taking any chances.  
Sighing, he began to take another sip when the doorbell rang.  
He froze, and his whole body tensed up with apprehension.  
"Zhat must be Mazhew," he thought with a grimace.  
Why would he grimace?  
Did he DREAD Matthew's presence?  
Something about seeing Matthew again ailed him, and it confused him to no ends.  
Why would he feel that way?  
Shouldn't he be HAPPY he was getting a chance to see him again?  
That's what you would normally think, but all it did was make Hans sicker, and he laid the glass aside to go get the door, dragging his feet across the floor like chains.  
He didn't want to see Matthew again, that was for sure, and he nearly smacked himself for it.  
All happiness from the earlier phone call with him had drained away, and Hans found himself slipping into darkness.  
Fear gripped him when he grabbed the handle, and he realized that this was the last time he would ever see Matthew again.  
It almost killed him to look at that sweet face, but he had to, and, so, he opened the door.  
His knees nearly buckled at the sight of him, and Hans could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, but he said nothing.  
He said nothing as he waved Matthew inside and offered him some cocoa.  
Not once did he utter a single word, and Matthew could notice he was shaking, spilling the cocoa repeated times in his process of making it to the couch.  
Eventually, Matthew asked him if he was sick, and the sound of the boy's voice nearly buckled him again, bringing him out of his shocked stupor.  
He cleared his throat and said, "Oh, no...No...It's just zhat..."  
"Hey, how about we go into your room, okay?"  
Hans's heart skipped a beat.  
His room?  
What was Matthew planning on doing in there?  
Once again, the images of the sweaty bodies mingled together came to the surface, and Hans had another feeling to smack himself.  
Matthew deserved BETTER than that. He deserved LOVE.  
When they entered his room, Matthew took a seat on the bed with the cocoa in hand while Hans took a seat beside him, his previous glass between his knees.  
"Wow, nice place ya' got here."  
"Ja, it's pretty old, but it'll do."  
Matthew could sense the tension in Hans's voice, and he could see the straightness of his mouth.  
Hans wasn't in the mood for talking.  
Whatever had happened between the phone call and now must've been really upsetting, and, at that recent thought of their kissing, it made Matthew's spirits droop like a weeping willow.  
The fact that Hans was upset made MATTHEW upset, and it was only worse seeing as how Matthew could tell Hans didn't want to see him right now.  
He was avoiding eye contact and averting small-talk.  
This was serious.  
And something had to be done.  
It killed Matthew inside, seeing him like this.  
It may have only been for one day, but Matthew felt like he had known Hans a lot LONGER than that, and seeing him so upset made HIM upset.  
He felt like it was HIS fault, like Hans didn't want to see HIM, that it was HE who had made him this upset.  
Of course, that wasn't true, but Matthew thought it was, and all of Hans's actions seemed to prove that.  
Sighing, his brows furrowed, and Matthew found himself boiling with rage.  
He didn't let it show, but there it was, just simmering like a pot ready to blow, and Hans could see his shoulders give a jerk with every second that passed.  
He was worried for Matthew, despite not wanting to be with him, and he laid a hand on his shoulder, saying, "Hey, vhat's wrong-?"  
"I think...I should be going now..."  
Hans arched an eyebrow.  
"There's no point in STAYING here anymore...," Matthew whispered.  
"If you're not gonna' ACKNOWLEDGE me, then, CLEARLY you don't love me enough to tell me otherwise."  
"Uh-No, Mazhew, vait!"  
Hans grabbed Matthew's wrist just as he was getting to his feet.  
"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry...Forgive me. I don't know vhat's come over me all of a sudden..."  
"Well, you better clean up your act, or I'm LEAVING."  
Hans sat back down on the bed with his head in his hands, and Matthew loomed over him, saying, "What's the MATTER with you?"  
"I don't know..."  
Hans shook his head.  
"But, all of a sudden...it's like...I've lost a piece of myself...that I'll never get back...und I..."  
Hans stopped.  
Damn it, he could feel the tears again, and he didn't want Matthew to see, so, he wiped them away as fast as he could.  
Of course, Matthew noticed, and he heard the sobbing sound he made.  
It was low, but he could still hear it.  
It suddenly tore Matthew up inside, and his heart was in disarray.  
What HAD happened while he was gone?  
Why WAS Hans so upset?  
Matthew decided it was something more than being just a little upset.  
Something had HURT Hans, and Matthew demanded to know what it was.  
Well, not really "DEMANDED". Matthew wasn't that kind of person.  
"Hey, what's wrong?," he asked softly, his hands gentle as they found their way around Hans's shoulders.  
"You can tell me. I promise, I'll listen."  
Hans pressed his body closer to Matthew's and almost moaned at how good how he felt.  
Wiping his nose again, he said, "Ugh, Zhank you, Mazhew. Zhat means a LOT to me."  
"So, will you tell me?"  
Their eyes locked.  
"What's WRONG, that is?"  
Hans nodded, and he suddenly pried the glass from between his knees, taking a quick sip before setting it down on the counter and saying, "Yes. Yes, I vill."  
Matthew nodded, and he ALSO set his cocoa on the counter.  
There was to be no more snack-time or small-talk.  
This was serious.  
And something had to be done.  
Sighing, Matthew asked, "So, tell me...What exactly is wrong with you?"  
Hans took it a little offensively, thinking there's nothing wrong with HIM, just the stupid Major, what with his stupid war, and his stupid ways, and the fact that Major was stupid enough to kiss him.  
But he didn't hate Major, no...Just thought he could do better than he had. Just thought he could do something better with his time than KILL people.  
And it's not even like he ENJOYED that stupid kiss, no...no...  
He blushed.  
Matthew shook him by his shoulders and yelled, "Hey, Hans! Are ya' in there!? Are ya' alright!?"  
Hans woke from his trance and turned his body to face Matthew, cringing slightly at the sour look on the boy's usually sweet face.  
That sour look didn't belong there, not on that sweet face of his, and Hans wanted to make it disappear, to make him SMILE again.  
Despite his sadness, Hans smiled, himself, hoping to brighten up Matthew's rainy mood, but it must not have worked because Matthew only frowned deeper.  
"Oh...You're CRYING again..."  
Hans's face turned a deep shade of red when Matthew wiped the tears from his face with one hand.  
Oh, God, his hands were so GENTLE. That only made Hans imagine what that HAIR was like. It had to be soft, like fluffy wafts of cotton candy, and Hans imagined devouring it, much like cotton candy.  
He wanted to kiss his lips and take him right now, but he waited, waited patiently and said nothing, all traits Hans had perfected over the years.  
He could wait, and he could be silent.  
Silence is golden...  
"Why are you so upset that you would cry? What's happened to you?"  
Hans smiled again and said, "I'll tell you, don't vorry...But, first zhings first...Don't get mad at me or zhink I'm joking vhen I tell you...I'd never LIE to you about somezhing like zhis. Zhis isn't a to time joke, and zhis DEFINITELY isn't a time to LIE."  
He waited a few moments before continuing.  
"Are you ready?," he asked, not going to tell the poor boy without knowing full well that he was ready to take it.  
"Yes...I'm ready..."  
Matthew nodded, but Hans could feel a cracked composure beneath that emotionless mask of his.  
That only worried him more.  
If he told him, and Matthew thought he was lying just to hurt him, Hans wouldn't be able to LIVE with himself.  
By the end of it, he'd be BEGGING to die at the hands of the Iscariot or Hellsing organizations.  
And they'd probably GIVE it to him, TOO...  
Probably...There was that "PROBABLY" again, and it kept nagging at the back of Hans's mind for some reason.  
What if this really WASN'T the last time he'd see Matthew?  
Well, if it WASN'T, then, hip, hip, HOORAY! That would be a JOYOUS occasion!  
The thought of it almost made him want to smile again.  
But, wait...  
What if he DID die? What if he DID die, and what then?  
What would MATTHEW do? Where would he go?  
The thought of that wiped the smile off his face in an instant, and he suddenly felt weighted by the burden of this possibility.  
"PROBABLY" wasn't going to cut it. Not a "maybe", a "DEFINITELY".  
Hans would accept nothing LESS, and THIS was why he was so upset, THIS was why he felt so weighted down.  
Matthew noticed he had spaced out again and, with a nudge of the hand, he said, "Well? I'm WAITING."  
Hans stared down at his smaller friend and sighed.  
"Here ve go," he thought sullenly.  
"Let's hope zhis PROBABLY vorks..."

* * *

"Ah, come ON! Bloody Hell!?"  
"England, calm down before you have a heart-attack-."  
"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, YOU FILTHY WANKER! I'VE GOT ENOUGH PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH WITHOUT YOU BUTTING IN, AND I DON'T NEED A FREAKING NAZI AS ONE OF THEM!"  
"Jeez, jeez, calm down already. All I said vas-."  
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"  
England and Germany were at the airport, and they had been held up by some bad weather.  
They weren't allowed to leave for another few hours or so, and it looked like they were STUCK here.  
England and Germany sat side by side on the bench.  
England had his hands under his chin, and Germany was just staring off into space, pensive.  
Then again, that was NORMAL for him, England guessed.  
He looked around the airport for anything that might keep them busy in this long time.  
England had first suggested that they CALL Canada, just to see what was up.  
But Germany thought better of it and declined, saying that he thought something BAD was going to happen.  
Eventually, England caved in, despite his usual prickliness regarding the other nation which he had already had several bloody disputes with in the past.  
Germany wasn't THAT bad, he decided, and, if he was genuinely worried enough to TELL him, then, maybe he was WORTH listening to.  
Sitting side by side, he began to WONDER something.  
Why was Germany so concerned with Canada?  
It's not like he really KNEW the guy, much as less ever ACKNOWLEDGED him.  
But, lately, the other man had seemed to take a strong attraction to him, and he couldn't spend five minutes without talking about the little Canadian.  
England had to say, it was kind of cute seeing how worried he was about the guy.  
It kind of reminded him of himself and America a few years back, and it never ceased to amaze him.  
And, then, the large television overhead began broadcasting the news.  
More bad news on the weather, but at least, England thought, it was clearing up a bit.  
Germany, on the other hand, was fraught with panic.  
He was worried for Canada's safety, and he felt like slapping himself, letting a stupid little kiss get him all worked up like this.  
It wasn't LIKE him to be so worried, but, after taking care of ITALY so long, perhaps Germany had taken a SOFTER side to people like him.  
He couldn't help but feel responsible for his leaving, and he wasn't relenting until Canada told him what the point of that KISS was.  
Either way, it was going to be a long night for the BOTH of them.

* * *

"So, then...you mean to tell me that...you're a Nazi...and a WEREWOLF?"  
"Vell...vhen ya' say it like ZHAT-."  
"Are you KIDDING me?"  
Hans gulped.  
This was what he had been afraid of.  
Denial. Rejection.  
And both were about to hit him like a grenade.  
"You're seriously gonna' expect me to believe that? Werewolves aren't REAL. Stop being stupid..."  
"I could show you."  
"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP AND STOP TALKING ABOUT STUPID STUFF!?"  
Hans was taken aback by the tone in his voice a took a few steps back, saying, "Mazhew," almost breathing the word.  
"How can you...How can you SAY stupid stuff like that? I...I really like you, and..."  
"And?"  
Hans's eyes widened.  
Why was he pausing?  
Oh, God.  
Was he about to confess his LOVE for Hans?  
Hans didn't think he could take it.  
Just the thought of hearing that sweet angel's voice say he loved him was too much to bear.  
He thought he might DIE if he heard it.  
"This is SERIOUS. I'M serious...about YOU...And when you make such cruel jokes, you act like you don't even care at all."  
"But, Mazhew, I-."  
"Save it! I don't wanna' hear anymore of your CRAP!"  
"I'm not LYING! Just let me SHOW you!"  
"SHOW me!? You can't SHOW me ANYTHING! Because it's not REAL!"  
Hans had stopped.  
His whole body was frozen.  
There were tears running down Matthew's face, and he suddenly realized the severity of the situation.  
This had been what he was afraid of.  
This was bad. This was really bad.  
If he didn't find a way to fix this soon, that would be the end of it.  
He would probably die, and those would end up being the last words they shared together.  
Hans couldn't think of such a horrible way for it all to end, end before it even began.  
He had to fix it. He just had to.  
But how?  
Clearly, Hans could see no other option, and he sighed, telling Matthew to close his eyes.  
At first, Matthew was very reluctant, but, then, after seeing the intensity in Hans's eyes, he decided to do it and agreed, clasping his hands over his eyes.  
"Okay," he said. "Do what you're going to do. But I still don't see how this is going to change anything...," having to stifle sob when he felt like he was going to cry again.  
There was a shift of air, and the room suddenly became very warm.  
Hans's voice came from somewhere far away, his voice almost like a growl as he said, "You can open your eyes now."  
What Matthew saw would stay with him for the rest of his life.

* * *

It had been a few hours, and the weather hadn't gotten any better.  
Germany and England were still at the airport, and Matthew and Hans were revealing their secrets.  
"I'm a nation," Matthew said.  
"The nation of CANADA, to be exact. It's not just my home. I'm the actual personification of that place. If anything bad were to happen to my homeland, I would be hurt, too."  
Hans didn't know what to say.  
Not only had HE been hiding secrets, but Matthew had as well.  
He felt a sudden weight lift from his shoulders at the idea.  
Then, that meant that Hans wasn't alone.  
Hans wasn't fully guilty for anything that had happened.  
After all, Matthew had lied to HIM.  
Which made him wonder...had the people who had been with him that day...Had they been nations as well?  
Hans believed Matthew easily for the fact that he, himself, was a creature most people didn't even acknowledge.  
And, two, he loved Matthew enough to know he would never lie to him.  
As the conversation carried on, it took a different turn.  
Hans began to tell Matthew of why he had called him here, and the man's face went from calm, to confused, to hysterically fearful.  
He found himself pouncing on Hans in an instant, begging him not to go, begging him not to leave here without saying goodbye.  
Of course, Hans had never meant to leave without saying goodbye.  
That was exactly what he had planned to do from the start.  
That was why he had called him here.  
To say goodbye...  
Hans at least calmed him down long enough to tell him about Hellsing.  
He told him that, should he not make it out of here in time, they were the ones to go to.  
He told Matthew that they would protect him and keep him safe, but Matthew protested, saying, "You're the ONLY one I want to keep me safe!"  
Hans sighed, touched by Matthew's compassion, but annoyed by his stubbornness just the same.  
He took him firmly by the shoulders and looked into his eyes, saying, "May I kiss you? Seeing as zhis may be zhe last time ve ever get to touch each ozher..."  
Matthew slowly nodded, somehow frightened by the idea of a kiss.  
Something about it being a goodbye kiss took all the fun out of it, but, nevertheless, he wasn't going to deny Hans the request.  
Hans inched slowly forward, and their lips touched.  
It was not so much a kiss as it was a mere peck on the lips, but Hans found it to be enough for him after all this time of being parted.  
Just a simple touch was all Hans needed to know he was loved, he was cared for, and it was all he really wanted.  
Or was it?  
The werewolf found himself looking deep into the eyes of his smaller partner, and a connection was made.  
Matthew's lips parted, and he could see them move, but he could not hear them.  
He didn't need to hear the words spoken to know it was true.  
He didn't need to hear that, "I love you," from Matthew's lips.  
He already knew it to be true.  
He didn't need to feel Matthew's arms around his shoulders or his hands around his neck.  
All he needed was that smile.  
That cute little smile Matthew always smiled as he said those words, "Hey, Hans?"  
"Ja?"  
"I want to learn...Can you teach me about..."  
He swallowed.  
"..."silence"?..."  
Hans's back stiffened.  
An invitation?  
Hans couldn't pass it up.  
Matthew whispered something before playing with Hans's hair in a delicate manner.  
He laughed and said, "Now, come on. I think you can do a little better than that...," before reaching up and kissing him again.  
Hans couldn't remember much after that.  
The rest was just a swirling torrent of passion and moans, and the werewolf had never felt so complete.  
They had made love.  
It had started slowly with Hans holding him in his lap, just a gentle peck on his neck every now and then.  
But, after a while, it escalated to tongue on tongue, body on body, and the bed had never gone through so much turmoil as it had that day, moaning as it was sure to crush under the weight.  
But somewhere in the middle of it all, Matthew said, "Uh, H-Hans?"  
"Ja?"  
Their eyes locked, and, for a moment, Hans's heart skipped a beat at the idea that Matthew might not go through it.  
But he had nothing to worry about when he simply said, "I don't care...if you're a Nazi...or a werewolf...All I care about is that you're here...and that you LOVE me...That's all that really matters...So, um...would you, please...make sure I never ever forget your face...No matter what happens...I always want to be able to remember you...I love you..."  
It happened before Hans could stop it or even feel it.  
A tear slid out of his eye and landed on Matthew's face.  
He didn't know why he was crying.  
Matthew had just admitted his love for him.  
Shouldn't that make him happy?  
Or perhaps it was the fact that it was probably the last time he would ever GET to tell him he loved him again.  
And there was that "PROBABLY" again...  
Matthew, having noticed the tear, began to panic.  
No.  
Hans couldn't be sad.  
It was their last moment together.  
He just COULDN'T be sad.  
Just COULDN'T be.  
In a swift motion, he pulled the other man into an embrace, and began telling him not to cry, that it was their last day, and to be happy and enjoy their time together.  
In the end, they found their way back to the bed again, and Matthew cupped Hans's face with his hands, saying, "We've only known each other for such a short time, and I still don't really know if I'm truly in love with you or not. But, even IF this is all a mistake...and even IF one of us dies today...at least I'll be happy knowing that I spent my last moments with you...And that will NEVER be a mistake..."  
The tears in Matthew's eyes were quickly kissed away by Hans's tender lips as they caressed his eyelids gently, parting for just a moment to whisper, "I love you...I love you...," before sliding down to his nose.  
Sure, they were going to make love eventually, but, BOY, did Hans take his precious time making Matthew WORK for it.  
He didn't want to just have sex.  
He wanted to savor the man who had taught him how to love again, who had taught him that even a Nazi werewolf could feel compassion if given the chance.  
He wanted to please Matthew, not himself, and this meant taking a matter of time preparing the other man, not wanting to hurt him or make him scream.  
He didn't want Matthew to feel any pain during it, only pleasure, and if that meant taking an hour or so before finally joining bodies and becoming one, so be it.  
Hans was sure Matthew was a virgin, but he saw nothing wrong with that, very pleased that he would be the first to take Matthew, that he would have the pleasure of knowing him before anybody else did.  
It was a good feeling, and he kissed Matthew again before taking off his own shirt and unbuttoning his partner's.  
The cap was left discarded on the floor, and Hans's necklace was laid gently on the counter nearby before he began paying close attention to their pants.  
He had no lubricant or anything of the sort other than his own bodily excrements, and he hoped that would be enough to keep Matthew from hurting for too long.  
He just had to hope and do his job.  
His lips trailed down the plain of Matthew's chest, almost groaning when he felt the Canadian shudder beneath him.  
It excited him to know that only he could make Matthew feel this way, make him shudder this way, and the thought of what was soon to come only excited him more.  
He had to fight back the urge to dry hump him multiple times, his animal instincts actually being quite the nuisance for once in his life.  
He was usually grateful for them.  
They helped him react quickly to important situations and make critical decisions before it was too late.  
But, when it came to Matthew, all this did was hinder his love-making capabilities.  
His wolf side said "fuck". His human side said "love".  
It wasn't a very easy battle...But Hans swore not to lose.  
He spent a long time taking in Matthew's scent before finally letting his tongue dart out, taking one of Matthew's nipples in his mouth, growing hard as he listened to the boy moan as he slowly swirled his tongue around in a circle, daring Matthew to lose control at the sheer ecstasy of it all.  
Boy, did Hans really know how to please a man...  
It was many minutes later before they even began taking their pants off, and, even then, Hans still took all the time in the world about pleasing Matthew, leaving not one speck on his body unattended.  
But Matthew didn't mind.  
The longer they were together, the better it was, and, with each moment they spent together, the stronger their feelings became, causing Matthew to wonder how he would ever be able to live without Hans after he was gone.  
But, in the middle of their love-making, Matthew stopped, causing Hans to ask, "Vhat? Vhat's wrong? Vas it somezhing I did?," before his eyes grew wide and he said, "I-I didn't HURT you, did I!?"  
Matthew, seeing the shock in his lover's eyes, laughing nervously as he tried to calm him, soothing his tensed shoulder with a gentle caress, saying, "Shh...There, there...There's nothing to worry about, I'm fine..."  
That was when Hans's shoulder began to relax a little, only to tense up once more when Matthew said, "It's just..."  
"Vhat? It's just VHAT?"  
When there was no answer, his voice cam a little louder than before, almost pleading as he said, "ANSWER me, Mazhew!," tears almost spilling from his eyes.  
"Zhese are our last moments togezher, und I don't vant to vaste zhem on trivial matters!"  
Matthew couldn't help but be touched by his lover's attentive behavior and wiped his eyes for him when tears began to flow from them.  
"There, there, it's alright...I was just wondering...how sad it was that we never got to do all these great things together..."  
Hans fell silent as Matthew began speaking.  
"Sight-seeing, ice cream, the zoo...I just wish that...we could have done more with the time given us...that we could have..."  
He gasped, trying to hold back the tears, and that was when Hans's lips clasped around his, surprising Matthew as he allowed his arms to reach up and clasp around Hans's neck.  
"...that maybe we could have-."  
A kiss.  
"-spent a little more time-."  
Another kiss.  
"-before saying our last goodbyes..."  
The last kiss was followed by a long embrace in which Hans whispered many, "I love you,"'s over and over again into his partner's ear.  
"I really don't care if you're a Nazi or a werewolf."  
Matthew laid his head on Hans's shoulder, comforted by the chin he soon felt descending on the top of his noggin.  
It made him feel surrounded and safe, and that made him feel loved.  
It was still a strange feeling, but that didn't mean it wasn't wonderful.  
...Because it was DEFINITELY wonderful...  
"As long as you are mine and you belong to me...That's all that really matters..."  
Not much else was said after that as they finally began to proceed with the love-making, Hans taking his precious time once again in pleasing him.  
When his tongue wrapped around Matthew's member, he gasped out in shock and pleasure, not able to hold it in, but not really WANTING to just the same.  
He wanted to be heard.  
He wanted Hans to know how much he enjoyed this, just how good it was.  
His fingers intertwined into the larger man's hair, pulling and tugging gently with every suck and every kiss, careful not to ever scrape his scalp with his nails as Hans licked away at his privates, treating each and every inch of it like a god in its OWN right, worthy of being praised in any way possible.  
He craned his neck to the side of the pillow to allow a sweat drop to plip from his nose and onto the bed sheet.  
It was exhausting, but that didn't mean it wasn't wonderful.  
...Because it was DEFINITELY wonderful...  
Hans stopped before Matthew came and began working his fingers up and down the length and width of his shaft, wanting to prolong Matthew's pleasure for as long humanly possible.  
Matthew almost cried out when he felt a finger enter his hole, but he didn't let it out when he bit on his tongue to silence it.  
It was an unfathomably painful experience, yet, at the same time, there was also something oddly pleasurable about it that Matthew just couldn't process.  
Hans's hands had slicked over with Matthew's juices, and he licked his fingers in front of him, clearly enjoying all the shivering Matthew was doing every time he graced his exposed torso with his fingertips.  
The boy was very tame during the whole experience, allowing Hans to take control as he pleasured him, going up and down as he had before.  
It wasn't too long before Hans declared Matthew ready, having made sure that everything had been done as to make it less painful for him, retracting his fingers from his entrance before reentering with a different part of him.  
Matthew cried out.  
The day wore on as they continued to make love, and not once did Hans rush Matthew or bully him into hurrying up in order to suit his own needs.  
It was Matthew's first time.  
He deserved to take as long as he wanted...  
Of course, naturally, every now and then, Hans would find himself going over the edge and need to take the time to control his natural instincts so he wouldn't hurt him, usually exiting Matthew for the time being as not to hurt him.  
But the experience was amazing.  
Both of them, two people who rarely ever talked or were ever rarely noticed by anyone else had found their soul mates, and the experience was amazing.  
In fact, neither Hans nor Matthew could really remember the last time they had been loved so attentively or so closely.  
Hans was only ever occasionally touched while training with the others, and Matthew often found himself the victim of everyone else's teasing.  
The change in atmosphere was all the more enjoyable BECAUSE of that, and neither one seemed to complain about the situation they had found themselves in beside the occasional moan or grunt when someone pushed a little too hard or kissed a little too roughly.  
In order not to smother his smaller partner, Hans laid Matthew's head across his chest and allowed him to rest on top of him.  
Matthew once remarked that he was like a big fluffy pillow, soft, yet warm.  
Matthew snuggled up to him, not at all deterred by the amount of sweat slicked over his lover's chest.  
Hans rested his chin atop his lover's head and tried to close his eyes, but, after two or so minutes of this, he decided against it.  
He didn't want to waste one moment of his time with Matthew, even if to sleep.  
"I love you, Mazhew," he whispered as quietly as he could in case he was already asleep.  
But he wasn't, and Matthew responded, "I love you, too, Hans," almost bringing tears to the larger man's eyes as he realized that that was probably the last time he would ever hear Matthew say those words.  
It hurt his heart, but there was nothing he could do now.  
He had made a promise to Major, and a promise was a promise.  
A Nazi werewolf still had his pride.  
And, so, keeping his eyes open for the remainder of their time together, Hans watched Matthew sleep until, completely sure that he was exhausted beyond all measure, he finally closed his eyes, keeping Matthew as close to his side as possible in order to feel the heartbeat that would never be his again.  
It was that one thing that broke his heart the most, that solitary heartbeat, and Hans could feel his heart breaking.  
This was it...  
This was the end...

* * *

Okay, all I gotta' say is...PARTIAL SEX SCENE! PARTIAL SEX SCENE! :D AWWW YYEEAAAHHHH! XD I actually was planning on doing more for this chapter but just decided to leave it here for now. Yeah, Canada yelling at Italy felt a little out of place, but, oh, well, when a Canadian snaps, a Canadian snaps. ;D Besides, Italy is pretty annoying. :/ Forewarning: Do NOT read the next chapter unless you are prepared to cry your eyes out like a little b*tch. ;-; Thank you for reading, and feel free to comment! See you next time! ^^


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